


If I love you, is that a fact or a weapon?

by MagicMeg



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Fake AH Crew, M/M, Mild Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3867805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicMeg/pseuds/MagicMeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Everything can and will be used against you in a world like this."</p>
<p>FAKE AH CREW AU in which Michael's got a dark past which makes his love a weapon against himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I love you, is that a fact or a weapon?

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me if there is anything technically incorrect with weapons and shit like that, I can’t say that I’m an expert but I tried to research the best I could :)

Michael peers up at the large apartment building in front of him, leaning against his four-by-four which has a trunk full of bags. Some of those bags carry his possessions. Others carry weapons and explosives. He smirks to himself at the thought, watching the pedestrians walking past him not knowing that he could blow that car up with one well aimed shot. But that’s not why he’s here. The apartment building he’s staring at is the home of Geoff Ramsey, not that anyone – especially the feds – knew that. Michael did however, because once Ramsey had heard that Mogar had left his crew in New Jersey, he had immediately contacted him to bring him in to big leagues. And Michael had snatched up that opportunity before the crime-lord had the chance to change his mind. Then before he knew it he was on a private jet to Los Santos, flying further and further away from the place he’d called home for all those years.

He takes a steady breath. Now or never right? He pushes himself off of the car, makes his way up the steps, presses the buzzer and waves up at the camera. He pauses. And for a second his fingers flex, reaching out to his concealed gun as he momentarily wonders – is this just another trap?

But then a garbled voice comes out of the system, “Come right on up, buddy!” He raises an eyebrow at the lax attitude shown by his boss, but hey this was the kind of gang he wanted to join, high-profile but fun. And if the news footage was anything to go by, they sure as hell seemed like a bunch of assholes dicking around.

By the time he makes it to Ramsey’s apartment Michael has a nervousness brewing in his stomach. He remembers the bond he had with his old crew and rumour has it that the Fake AH Crew are even closer, like a family. Could Michael really slip in that easy?

But it’s too late to turn around. He’s in now and he _needs_ the protection membership to the crew offers. So he rings the doorbell and waits for it to swing open. He’s greeted by Ramsey, who shoots him a happy grin under his handlebar moustache and welcomes him inside, telling him how it’s an honour to have him on board.

“Seriously, kid, you’re the kind of guy we’ve been needing in the crew. I’ve seen the shit you got up to in New Jersey and you’ll blossom with us, I’m telling you,” Ramsey assures him.

“Thank you, sir,” Michael responds cordially.

But the older man chuckles at his politeness, “No need for any formal bullshit, you’re one of us. It’s just Geoff.” Michael nods and allows Geoff to lead him into the living-room to introduce Michael to the rest of the crew.

“That’s our sniper, Ray-“

“What’s up.”

“Our pilot, Jack-“

“Hey,” the larger man says happily.

“That’s Ryan – he’s kinda crazy.”

“Kinda?” Ray interjects, “He’s a fucking psychopath!”

“Look,” the face-painted man responds steadily, “You guys keep saying things like this but-“

“Look at your face paint!” the final, unintroduced man cries (Michael notices the lilt of a British accent).

“What about my face paint?!”

“Well you look like a lunatic, that’s what! It’s like you’re either going to a kid’s birthday or a murder spree!”

“Hey, I’m on a murder break,” Ryan snaps at the Brit, but there’s a fondness in his voice that makes Michael doubt the intimidating look the man is sporting.

In between giggles Geoff introduces the Brit – “And this is Gavin.”

Gavin looks up at Michael, giving him a smile and a small wave and Michael responds to the gesture with a wave of his own which only makes Gavin beam brighter.

“Alright, Michael,” Geoff says to him, “I hate to do this to you on your first day but we just got a call from one of our guys and she needs us tonight. You up for it?”

It’s a little sudden but Michael was never one for thinking about a job too much. “Sure. Sounds better than a shitty tour bus to help me learn the city.”

The group chuckles and Geoff gives him an appreciative slap on the back, “That’s the spirit.”

Then before he knows it he’s being swept into a concealed room where there’s rows of weaponry, body armour and masks. There’s a map of the city pinned to the wall and Michael can’t deny that he’s thoroughly impressed.

“You like?” Gavin asks him, grinning smugly, “I doubt you had this much back in Jersey.”

Michael gives a blasé shrug, letting the jibe role off his back as he responds nonplussed, “It’s alright, I guess.” He sees something flicker behind the Brit’s eyes, a spark of competiveness and a flame of interest and Michael recognises the same emotions stirring in him too. But Michael doesn’t have much time to dwell on it because a red-haired women has burst into the room, giving a nod at Michael, introducing herself as Lindsay, the team’s schemer. So it doesn’t take him much by surprise when she’s unfolding the plan of the night to them.

It’s nothing too dangerous but interesting enough. Lindsay has a buyer who wants one of the military’s Buckingham Valkyrie. But, seeing as it’s a badass asset, they’re stealing two. One for the buyer, one of them.

“Look at it this way,” Lindsay explains, “We get a shit tonne of money and a new vehicle. Think of all the ways we can fuck around with the police with that monster. And anyway, it’s not like we’re breaking into the military base. There’s a small factory up in the north-west where there’s two fresh Valkyries waiting to be picked up tomorrow at dawn. So the idea is, we get in and out. Stealth mission. Make sure no one knows they’re gone until they get there in the morning. Gives us enough time to stash it, make it look like one of our own and deliver the other to the buyer.”

Michael thinks that perhaps they’re cutting it quite fine just giving them a night to hide these vehicles but the faces of the members around him seem calm and accepting of the plan so who is he to question it? He’s put on a team with Gavin, which Michael quickly suspects it’s because it’s his first mission. Gavin seems to be the dopiest of the bunch and their job is simply to deactivate the alarm and man the guns as they fly out of the storage unit. Even though he would’ve rather been with Ryan on the ground slitting people’s throats he holds his tongue. He is the newbie after all.

Once the meeting is over they have a few hours to kill before they all travel up to the factory so Gavin offers to take him to his place so they can go over the schematics of the alarm system. Once there, Gavin pulls out some beers and Michael, as he sits himself down on the sofa, dares to ask-

“So uh, Lindsay seems to be cutting it pretty close with the timing.” He hopes Gavin doesn’t notice the slight nervousness in his voice.

The Brit grins as he hands Michael his beer, throwing himself down onto the seat beside Michael. “Oh yeah Lindsay’s mental. She once organised a heist where-“ he snickers, “-where we robbed a bank of its gold and hid it in a port-a-potty. The cops were faffing all over the gaff looking for that bloody gold!” He gave another peal of laughter and Michael, behind his own chuckles, absentmindedly remembers seeing it on the news and a voice in the back of his mind goes ‘ _So that’s where they hid the gold_.’

“So don’t be worried about it,” Gavin assures him, “We’ve done crazier crap in the past. This’ll be a piece of cake.”

Michael sends him a grin. “So, shall we start looking over this stuff?”

“Sure!” he responds cheerfully, “you know much about mechanics?”

“Uh I was training to be an electrician before I joined my gang back in Jersey and I’ve had my fair share of alarm disassembling but nothing as high-profile as this.” Gavin nods, seeming pleased with the information as they flick open the folder.

Michael quickly finds out that Gavin, despite his airhead demeanour, is pretty fucking smart. He’s flicking through the pages, throwing long words at Michael which just sound like gibberish but Gavin seemed unfazed. Even throwing in comments such as “Seems pretty basic.” which makes Michael’s brain hurt because he can hardly understand a word.

Gavin seems to notice Michael’s panicked expression so he reels back and laughs nervously. “Sorry, I get pretty absorbed with this stuff.”

Michael scratches the back of his neck, “Nah don’t worry about it. But maybe uh, try using more basic English?”

“Typical Yank.“ Gavin teases, “The Queen’s English too complicated for you?”

Michael shoots him a death-glare, “Better watch your mouth, I have a reputation for losing my temper.”

Gavin tuts, “Geoff wouldn’t be that happy with you offing his little protégé.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Protégé?”

Gavin gives a shrug, but there’s a hint of a smirk on his mouth, “Let’s just say he picked me up when I was pretty young.” But before Michael can even ask more Gavin dives back into the schematics, explaining the system to Michael and why they can’t just shoot the damn things rather than using an EMP bomb. Turns out that Lindsay didn’t give them such an easy job. It required them sneaking into the building before anyone else, hooking themselves up to the surveillance cameras to let the crew know where the guards are and then setting off the EMP. And if Gavin picks up on Michael’s nervousness as they drive back to Geoff’s, he doesn’t say anything but continues to shoot him a series of bizarre and disturbing ‘Would you rather’ questions so by the time they’re back into the apartment gearing up Michael feels a lot more sure of himself.

As he’s weighing up a gun in his hand Ray joins him and starts suggesting the silencer he should use just in case he and Gavin run into any trouble. Michael soon finds himself falling back into his old pattern and with a gun, flash bangs and extra ammunition strapped to his chest he feels a lot more comfortable as they drive up the highway in a black SUV. Beside him Gavin is also dressed in black, a dark duffle bag on his lap and his mask in his hand. The six of them are making easy conversation, once and awhile discussing their jobs but they’re all pretty confident that they know what they have to do.

Due to the darkness of the tinted windows Michael doesn’t even realise they’ve pulled up to the side entrance until Gavin’s nudging him, pulling on his mask as he does. They climb out of the car which quickly pulls away again to drop Geoff and Jack at their lookout point.

“You ready, boi?” the Brit whispers eagerly.

Michael gives a smirk as he eyes the vents they’ll be crawling through, “Ready as I’ll ever be. Just don’t trip and die and I think we’ll be good.”

Gavin elbows him in the side before going up the duct and quietly unscrewing it, taking the cover off. Like Lindsay had told them, it is enough room for them to squeeze through but only just. They don’t pause, they don’t have time to. Gavin clambers in first, and Michael follows. Dragging themselves forward on their elbows, trying to be quick enough to make it in time but not too quick that they start making noticeable noise.

“We’re here,” Gavin hisses back. He’s got his tools out again, carefully removing the cover and handing back to Michael. In return Michael passes forward one of his flash bangs, Gavin grabs it, shuffles around and then they hear the clink of it landing on the floor below them.

There’s a murmur of alarmed voices. Michael and Gavin cover their eyes.

They’re moving quickly now, dropping down (maybe a bit clumsily) into the room and eliminating the guards before any of them can hit the alarm button. Michael moves to the door of the room, quickly scanning out the narrow window to see if anyone else noticed a thing.

“All clear.”

Gavin has already thrown himself into one of the chairs in front of the many bright screens, lighting the otherwise dim room. He raises his finger to his earpiece and says softly. “This is Team Nice Dynamite checking in.”

_Team_ _what_?

“You’ve got four guys in the hallway, six guys on the roof, four circulating the walkway inside the storage unit and three for each Valkyrie.” Pause. “Okay. We’ll take the hallway. Free, out.”

Once Gavin has turned his mic off Michael turns to him from his post at the door, “Team Nice Dynamite?” he asks mockingly.

Gavin giggles, “Well y’know I just thought it would be a good name. We’ve got the flash bangs and the EMP but they’re not deadly bombs so it’s like ‘nice’ dynamite.”

Michael snickers, “You’re a fucking idiot.”

But the Brit simply beams back at him, “C’mon you like it, admit it.”

He rolls his eyes, “It’s catchy but stupid.” Gavin grins at him, apparently that’s enough appreciation for him to be satisfied. He reaches into his duffle bag and pulls out two pairs of night-vision goggles. Michael takes off his mask, chucks it to Gavin who throws it into his bag and then tosses Michael one of the goggles.

“Jesus Christ, Gavin,” he cries when he nearly drops it, “I could’ve broken that!”

“But you didn’t,” he replies with a cheeky grin, putting on his night-vision goggles as he does.

“Alright,” Michael says once they’re geared up got their guns out, “You ready with the EMP?”

“Yup.”

Michael raises his earpiece, “Team Nice Dynamite checking in.” He snickers as he says it. “We’re ready with EMP. Communications will be shutting off in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1-“

The lights shut off. The screens go dead black. There’s the muffled cry of voices from outside the room.

“You ready?” Michael asks his partner as he approaches the door.

“Okay, let’s go.” He shoves the door open and gunfire starts immediately.

\----

They had actually done it. Maybe it required a few more helicopters to be shot down than expected but Michael didn’t mind. He had missed the rush of adrenalin he experienced during the chaos of a big escape. He still remembers their combined cheers as Michael shot the final helicopter out of the sky from inside the Valkyrie. And nothing was better the celebratory booze.

As they crowded inside a desolate bar in the south of Los Santos, Michael feels euphoric in their victory. Ray and Ryan are playing pool, steadily drinking their way through a pack of soda cans whilst Lindsay looks on gleefully saying she will challenge the victor. In the other corner of the room Geoff is being cleaned up by a lady called Griffon, who Michael had found out to be Geoff’s wife. Jack had gone home to his own wife, apologising as he left the party early, leaving ‘Team Nice Dynamite’ at the bar, two shots and one beer in.

Michael smirks. “Should’ve guessed. A guy as skinny as you has to be a lightweight.”

“I’m not a lightweight,” Gavin scowls but his voice is slightly slurred.

“Just so you know I’m not dragging your drunk ass home.”

Gavin leans forward on his stool, resting his elbow beside Michael’s hand. “But where are _you_ going to go, boi?” Michael doesn’t know when Gavin started calling him ‘boi’ but the affectionate tone he says it with fills Michael with comfort so he doesn’t ask.

“What d’ya mean?”

“Well do you have an apartment?”

He runs his fingers through his hair. “Geoff said he’s got me a place but it won’t be uh ‘ready’ for another two days. So I’m just sleeping in my car.”

Gavin’s eyes widened, “But you could stay with me!”

Michael raises an eyebrow but can’t deny that the offer isn’t unappealing. “Do you even have room for me?”

The Brit nods eagerly, looking like a child on Christmas day, “I’ve got a pull out sofa. You can sleep on that!”

It was better than his car. And Gavin wasn’t a _complete_ idiot. “Well, I guess if you’re offering-“

Gavin squeals, throwing his arms around Michael in a very clumsy hug. “Trust me, Michael. It’s going to be top!”

And Michael can’t help himself, he lets a grin crawl up his face. Maybe this move to Los Santos won’t be so difficult after all.

“So I guess you’ll be dragging my arse back home after all,” he whispers into Michael’s ear.

With a growl he shoves Gavin off of him, “Jackass.” But the blond simply beams back at him, like he’s glowing inside out.

\----

Michael wakes up before Gavin the next day. Bleary-eyed with a slight hangover. But nothing compared to what he guesses his temporary roommate will be dealing with. He fumbles with Gavin’s coffee-machine for a moment before making himself a black coffee and settling down to read the news on his phone.

_The Fake AH Crew’s newest member?_

His fingers tense around his phone. He quickly scans the article and- there’s a picture of him. Of him and Gavin sneaking into the factory. Apparently the building next door’s security cameras picked them up. It’s not that identifiable but if someone knew him well enough they’d recognise his build and the way he kept his hand near his gun at all times.

And knowing _them_ , they’re probably already on their way.

“Fuck,” he hisses. He had hoped he would have more time before they found him. More time before his face started popping up in the newspapers. But this is Los Santos, not New Jersey. Journalists here live off of crime and hell if they will let big news like this fall through the cracks.

A hand comes to rest on his shoulder and he jumps, spinning around to grab a wrist and-

“Gavin…!” He drops his grip. “I… I’m sorry-“

He waves it off sleepily, seemingly unfazed, “Don’t worry about it. Shouldn’t have snuck up on you.” He sends him a smile but by the bags under his eyes Michael can tell he was right in his prediction.

“Hey, sit down,” he tells Gavin, “I’ll get you some coffee and cook us up some breakfast.”

“Omelette.”

“’May I have an omelette please, Michael’ is what I think you meant there, Gavvers.”

“Sod off.”

Michael chuckles at his grumpy friend, prioritising the coffee before engaging in any more conversation with him. As the oil sizzles and he hears Gavin sipping his coffee idly, Michael begins to wonder at the ease of their friendship. He was a pretty closed off guy so it was surprising how quickly he and Gavin had hit it off. But he shrugs it off, he had made a friend which was more than he was expecting. So why psycho-analyse it?

\----

The next few days pass by uneventfully crew-wise. So as he waits for his new apartment to be free he just hangs with Gavin, and occasionally Ray, to play video-games and explore the city. He purchases himself some custom weapons and, on his final night at Gavin’s, some groceries. His four-by-four has been upgraded and given a paint-job by Griffon, essentially wiping away the remnants of his life back in New Jersey. Not that he wanted to be reminded.

When Geoff escorts him to his new apartment Michael is more than grateful. It’s a lot better than anything he had back in New Jersey, despite all the money they made, and it’s a lot more than Michael figures he deserves after just one job.

“Geoff…” He trails off as he wanders to the ceiling-high windows which stretch across his living-room, giving him a crystal clear view of Los Santos. The place is even furnished already.

He gets a slap across the back. “Don’t even think about it, kiddo. But I do expect you’ll be throwing a housewarming party tomorrow night?” He hadn’t been planning it but Geoff sends him a wink and Michael chuckles.

“I think I can do that.”

“Good. You haven’t lived until you’ve had one of my drinks.”

\----

Geoff was absolutely fucking right. His drinks are – as Gavin would put it – tippy toppers (or something like that). He considers himself a pretty good drinker but whatever magic moonshine Geoff had put into that drink, it had gone right to his head.

A pair of hands land on his shoulders and a drunk Gavin sways into sight. “You’re drunk, Mi-coo!” the Brit coos, moving to ruffle his hair.

He swats his hands away, “It’s my house. I’m allowed to get drunk.”

“Speaking of your house,” Gavin slurs, “can I take your spare room?”

Michael rolls his eyes dramatically at the puppy-dog face he’s being given. “Whatevers, Gav. But don’t expect me to be cooking breakfast for you again. You were a downright brat last time.”

Gavin pouts. “Ohh but Mi-cooo! Your omelette was so tasty!”

“Damn right it was!” And even Michael can detect the slur in his voice.

Gavin’s hands slide down his shoulders as he begins squeezing his biceps. “Ooo! Look at this!” he squeaks gleefully continuing to poke and squeeze accompanied with an array of weird bird noises. Michael only stares in absolute befuddlement at the loser in front of him.

He’s only known the guy for a couple of days yet this closeness and relaxed state feels mind-bogglingly natural. A nervousness creeps into the sub-consciousness of his mind. Was he putting himself in a vulnerable position again?

But Gavin’s grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the TV where they’re booting up Mario Kart. And frankly, Drunk Michael doesn’t care how his nerves tingle at the contact. Because it’s been way too long since he’s been able to have fun like this so he’s going to enjoy it. And that’s how he finds himself squished up on the sofa in between Los Santos’ most feared criminals playing Nintendo games. And Michael can’t help but snicker at the thought because Ryan can’t figure out how to turn, Gavin keeps falling off the map and Ray is completely obliterating them. ‘ _These are the guys the police are shitting bricks over._ These _guys.’_

“Michael!” Gavin cries in shock-horror as he sends a red shell crashing into Gavin.

“All’s fair in love and war, boi!”

“HOW DO YOU TURN THIS PIECE OF SHIT BIKE?!” Ryan roars as Ray and Geoff cackle.

“Jesus, Ryan you suck at this,” Lindsay giggles.

“Fuck off!”

“I mean it’s really surprising considering you learnt how to fly a plane in a week,” Jack points out.

“Yeah, well planes aren’t made by Nintendo,” Ryan grumbles as he finishes at eleventh place.

“Hey, look,” Michael says in a mock-comforting voice, “at least you didn’t get twelfth.”

“See, you’re improving Ry-Bread,” Gavin says in the same mocking tone. Ryan just continues to grumble. Michael and Gavin meet each other’s eyes and burst into laughter.

\----

The next morning, they’re not as perky. Gavin comes stumbling into Michael’s kitchen with a groan. “Grphh. I’m knackered, Michael,” he complains groggily as he climbs onto one of the stools facing the counter.

“Yeah, you look like shit. Here.” He shoves a plate with an omelette towards him and then puts the coffee mug down beside it. He turns away before he can see Gavin’s stupid reaction.

There’s a small gasp. “Awww you made me breakfast after all!”

“Shut the fuck up and eat your food, dickhead,” Michael grumbles as he begins to make his own.

“Michael-”

“I said eat, dipshit.”

“I don’t have any cutlery.”

“Do I look like your slave?”

He can feel the pout burning into his back, he can almost see the wobble of Gavin’s lip- Michael sighs loudly. Wrenches the drawer beside him open and loudly clatters the knife and fork onto the counter. Gavin giggles victoriously.

“Thank you, Michael,” he says sweetly, smugness etching into his voice.

He returns to cooking with the roll of his eyes. “Why _are_ you so fucking chipper this morning?”

Gavin gives a garbled response over the food in his mouth. Michael sighs and waits for the idiot to finish eating before saying, “English, Gav.”

“You just bring light, Michael,” he says casually, not even seeming to realise the heartfelt nature of his words. Which works out just fine for Michael because they made his heart skip a beat and he _really_ doesn’t want to deal with the meaning of those words. So simple yet so powerful. It was like finding home at last.

\----

In all the chaos which follows the next few weeks Michael hardly has any time to think about the fact that his face was plastered across the news but he sure as hell hasn’t forgotten. It isn’t like he hadn’t been expecting it because he knew it would have happened eventually. But maybe he was just hoping he would have had more time before he started sleeping with one eye open.

Geoff assures him that the apartment is sealed tight. That if it ever got broken into everyone would be alarmed – just as it is with everyone else’s homes. It sets him slightly at ease but the unknown is freaking him out. He knows they’re out there and they’re probably in Los Santos tracking his every move. But it’s been weeks. And they haven’t done a thing.

After their last hit on him he thought they would strike a lot quicker now that he knew they’re after him. But apparently they’re enjoying watching his nerves build up. Watching him relax with his new friends only to have his guard shoot up when a car’s wheels screech in the street or even when a lightbulb blows in his apartment. Or maybe they’re waiting. Waiting for him to get close to people and snatch them away again.

So who can blame him if he keeps the Fake AH Crew at an arm’s length away? It’s certainly a much better alternative than having them at risk.

But there’s one problem. One person, to be exact, who has been inching themselves closer and closer. Gavin fucking Free. The one with the sunshine smile, lanky build and warm body. The one who loves to cuddle and ruffle his hair. The one who loves to put himself into danger.

_There’s gunshots from either side of them. Michael stares across at Gavin who is crouched behind a large wooden crate. He meets eye-contact with Michael. They nod. They jump up over their cover, spraying bullets until every last person is on the ground – not moving._

_They lower their guns slightly, dropping to look around the perimeter but even before Michael can clear his side Gavin is moving out in to the open to examine a body. As Michael goes to scold him, he catches something out of the corner of his eye._

_A grenade rolling at Gavin’s feet. Michael’s eyes dart up and see a masked man (one of their enemies) slipping into an alleyway._

_Fuck. No._

_“GAVIN!” he roars, breaking into a sprint towards Gavin. He grabs the bewildered-looking man by the arm, dragging him away from grenade and basically tackling him to the ground behind a turned over vehicle._

_It explodes._

_The heat and roar of sound flood his senses. His ears ring. His nerves tingle. But he’s grabbing Gavin’s face, holding him still and when the ringing dims he realises that he’s been muttering – “Idiot. You’re such an idiot.”_

_“Michael,” Gavin murmurs, his green eyes wide, “Michael you just… You just saved my life.”_

_Suddenly Michael seems to realise their proximity. He’s so close he can see the dust of the sand in Gavin’s eyelashes and the individual flecks of colours in his eyes – and then he makes the mistake of looking down. Gavin licks his lips and he feels him move in his grip. Moving just an inch closer his own mouth. Michael’s heart beats so fast it hurts and he musters up the strength to whisper hoarsely-_

_“I… I guess I did.”_

_He drops his shaking hands from Gavin’s face._

_“Come on, boy,” he says softly, “we’ve got a job to do.”_

Michael has replayed that memory time and time again. Trying to decipher the emotions which had been rushing through his heart and swimming in Gavin’s eyes. Trying to figure out how to protect himself but every time he thought he had thrown a wall up Gavin came waltzing through it like it was just dust and smoke.

With the chirp of his voice and the pure excitement he bubbles with every time Gavin hears Michael’s voice, Michael kept getting deeper and deeper. And God was he in deep.

“I can’t do this again,” he murmurs to himself one sleepless night. “I can’t lose him.”

\----

One lazy night after a successful job, Michael is pouring him and Gavin some more drinks because they are not nearly drunk enough to stop feeling the ache of the bruises across their bodies, the black-purple marks along his ribs from being hit by a car and the blossoming bruise on Gavin’s jaw from a well-aimed punch. It’s nothing out of the usual but it doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

He hears Gavin’s clumsy walk up to him, stilted slightly by the limp in his step. Michael turns to face him, holding out a glass towards him. Gavin looks at him with big eyes and he’s caught off guard with the seriousness and the affection in their gaze.

“Gavin?” His voice hitches as his friend pushes the offered drink aside, taking it from his hand and placing it on the counter behind him.

Gavin smiles and giggles at Michael’s nervousness. “You’re bleeding,” he tells the red-head.

“Oh.” His shoulders slouch in a mixture of relief and disappointment as Gavin reaches around Michael to grab a washcloth. He moves away from him for only a moment to damp it but then he returns, invading Michael’s personal space as he always does. Gavin moves the cloth and gently presses it to Michael’s forehead and he gasps at the stinging pain.

The Brit hushes him. “You’ve had worse,” he tells him. But that’s not it. There’s something in the air which is making Michael’s heart race and his nerves are picking up every whisper of air that brushes his skin so the mere contact of the cool cloth makes him gasp and the way Gavin holds him still by his loose grip on his arm turns his reason to mere thought and his walls are sand at Gavin’s feet.

Gavin seems to notice this too. His voice is much lower, softer than usual and there’s a look in his eyes which makes Michael’s breath catch in his throat. And somewhere deep inside him he knows something will happen but he can’t bring himself to stop whatever domino effect is about to occur.

It starts with a noise of satisfaction from Gavin as he finishes cleaning Michael up. Then Michael’s eyes flicker to his mouth as if hoping to see the sound exit his lips. Then the grip on his arm gets tighter. The washcloth nervously set back down.

Michael looks back up just after Gavin wets his mouth. Something flutters nervously. Gavin’s fingers gingerly cup Michael’s jaw and he can’t help the small gasp at the contact. His fingers are cool and damp from holding the washcloth.

“Gavin,” he whispers but the sound is swallowed by Gavin’s lips on his. And it all goes to shit from there.

Michael’s arms are wrapping around Gavin’s waist, dragging him closer and ignoring the pain as Gavin’s chest slams into his bruised ribs. As he kisses him he tries to avoid his injured jaw but with ferocity that Gavin is going at Michael throws caution to wind and bites down on his lower lip, only to be rewarded with a low groan from Gavin who in turn moves to push Michael up against the counter, their bodies flushing together as their tongues meet.

_“LET HER GO!”_

_“Now, now Mogar don’t you know? You have to pay for what you’ve done and we don’t want your money.”_

_“Michael? Michael what’s going on I-“_

_“NO! NO! YOU BASTARDS. YOU FUCKING MONSTERS. NO. NO. No. Oh god- please no. Please.”_

Michael gasps. Shoving Gavin off him and stumbling away.

“Michael?”

The man in question touches his lips with shaking fingers. “I… Gavin- you can’t- they’ll…” he stumbles with his words, the memories flashing through his head, the image of her blood making the world in front of him sway. As his knees give out from under him Gavin comes swooping in, grabbing him and leading him to sit him down on the sofa.

Gavin sits beside him and moves to take his hands in his but Michael snatches them away. He can’t bear to look at the hurt expression which must be on his friend’s face but it can’t be helped.

“Go home, Gavin,” he mutters tiredly but the shake in his voice gives away his vulnerability so he can only hope that Gavin’s ego has been hurt enough that he’ll storm off. No questions asked.

“Not until you tell me what just happened.”

Michael sighs, leaning over to rest his face in his hands. “All you need to know is that it’s too dangerous for us to do this.”

“Too dangerous?” Gavin snaps, his temper flaring quicker than Michael expected. “That’s what you’re giving me? ‘Too dangerous’. That’s bollocks Michael and you know it.”

“You don’t understand the half of it,” Michael growls, “so save your ass and get the fuck out of my apartment.”

He gives a bitter laugh. “Is that how you treat everyone who falls for you? You pull them in, you snog them and just chuck ‘em?”

“No. No it’s not like that, Gavi-“

“Then what is it like?!” Gavin’s voice strains with frustration and an edge of pain.

Michael lifts his head, running his fingers through his hair. “Look, Gav… Last time I got close to someone they… they got hurt.”

“I get hurt all of the time.”

“No. No I mean… She died. And I was there. And- And I just can’t go through that again, Gavin so it’s just safer for you if you just stay away.”

“Safer for me? Or safer for you? Cause it sounds like you’re just protecting your heart, Michael. And I get that but you don’t have to worry-“

“She didn’t just- Gavin it was _my_ fault she died! I pissed off some powerful people and they… they hit back, okay? They knew I loved her and so they killed her and fuck Gavin I wasn’t planning on falling again so soon-“ He cuts himself off as his voice cracks again. Trying to gain a hold of his emotions. “But no matter how I feel or how you feel this can’t happen.”

“So you’re saying they’re still out there.”

Michael clicks his tongue. “The less you know the better.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Please just go.”

“Fat bloody chance! You just admitted that you’re in some serious shit and you think I’m just going to leave?”

“YES! Because if I have fucking assholes crawling around trying to ruin my life and they sure as hell don’t need to find out that I’ve already got a new fucking weak spot. Especially a weak spot who just _loves_ to run out in front of bullets, leave his gun at home and doesn’t even fucking know how to drive!”

“I’m not going, Michael.”

Michael is _this_ close to snapping the idiot’s neck out of rage but all he can manage is a frustrated, “ _Why_?”

“Because I loved someone once too. A news reporter. Brilliant, sexy and funny as hell. And I loved her more than I had ever loved anyone before. I dragged her into my world and I got her hurt bad. So I pushed her away to the point where she left Los Santos and hasn’t looked back. I broke her heart to save her but I also broke mine in the process.” Gavin starts to wring his fingers nervously. “She wasn’t like us, Michael. She didn’t know how to handle a gun or which way to dive to avoid an explosion. And that’s why she got hurt. But I thought… When I realised how I felt about you I thought that this time it might be different because you and I… We come from the same world. So I might not have to break us. We could survive this crazy city together.”

Michael, for the first time since the conversation began, looks up at Gavin. There’s tears in his eyes and a sad smile on lips and it drags on his heart like nothing else. He wants nothing more to hold this broken boy in his arms and kiss him until he feels whole again. But Gavin is no match for them, they would tear him apart and his blood would be on Michael’s hands before he even had time to get to those three little words.

His face breaks with remorse. “Don’t you know, Gav?” his quiet voice cracks as his own tears gather in his eyes, “Everything can and will be used against you in a world like this.”

For a moment Gavin’s eyes search him, the disappointment and pain awash across his face and Michael hates to hurt him like this. “Is that your final answer?” Gavin eventually asks him.

Michael nods, not trusting his voice not to betray the anguish he feels.

Gavin’s mouth presses into a thin line as he processes the information. “Fine,” he bites before pushing himself off of the coach and marching out of the apartment. He slams the door and Michael allows himself to crumble.

It hurts like hell but it’s safer this way. He just can’t risk it again.

\----

Michael’s awoken that night by the sound of his phone blaring an alarm. He lurches out of his bed and grabs it, pushing on his glasses so he can see the bold red letters on his screen.

His heart stops.

Gavin’s apartment has been broken in to. And he’s yet to send any response to say he’s okay.

Michael’s out of his apartment before he knows it, fumbling with a gun and his keys as he throws himself into his car. He’s racing towards Gavin’s apartment building and with them two being the closest to each other he’s not surprised that he’s the first one to make it there.

When he reaches the door it’s swung wide open and Michael can already see a trail of blood. Like a body being dragged.

He tries to keep his emotions at bay but as he walks cautiously into the apartment, his gun raised, he can hardly listen out for sounds of life with how loudly his heart is beating in his ears. But there’s no one in sight.

There’s evidence of a fight. A man down on the ground with a bullet through his skull. Gavin’s gun kicked to the corner of the room and his aquarium shattered. Shards of glass on the floor covered in blood.

He makes his way to the bedroom, slowly pushing the door open, looking in to survey the room-

The walls are plastered with pictures. Haphazardly put up with messy stretches of tape. There’s a blood stained handprint on one of them.

It’s pictures of them. Of him and Gavin. Kissing. Gavin’s hand on his jaw. And oh god. He had been so right. They _had_ been watching. They _had_ been waiting. And they struck before he could even think that someone had been spying on them through his penthouse windows.

His gun clatters to the floor. Michael’s head spins. He feels sick. He rushes to the bathroom and throws up. Violently. Then he sinks slowly to floor. Absentmindedly he can hear Gavin’s phone buzzing. With phone calls, with texts, with the alarm system demanding to know if he’s there.

But he isn’t.

And the others will be here soon.

What will they say when they find out that it is all Michael’s fault? Gavin was going to be dead and it would be all his fault. Just like last time.

\----

Ryan finds him first. Still sitting in the bathroom with one of the photos crumpled in his hand. He can’t remember when he tore it from the wall but it must have been before he threw up.

The older man pulls off his mask and bends down next to his tear-splattered team mate and asks very calmly what has happened. And Michael does. Michael tells him very quietly how once upon a time Michael lived in New Jersey and he thought he was untouchable, unbeatable. He got reckless. He got cocky and pissed off some drug-lords. Ruthless ones who made money through the policy of ‘shoot first, ask questions later’.

At first Michael didn’t care. He thought it fucking hilarious to screw up their million dollar shipment right in front of their eyes. That was until they kidnapped his fiancée and killed her before he could even offer to pay them back. But that wasn’t to be the end of it. They told them that he would not walk free of this. They wanted to make a statement to anyone who even thought of crossing them. So he became their symbol. And they vowed to follow him and torture him wherever he went.

By the time he’s finished his story Geoff and Jack have arrived. Ryan stares at him solemnly and asks, “What does this have to do with, Gavin?”

Michael passes the crumbled paper wordlessly. Geoff and Jack peer over Ryan’s shoulder as he unfolds the paper and-

A stillness descends across the room as the cogs start to turn in their minds.

They killed Michael’s last love after kidnapping her. And Gavin was sure to pay to a similar price.

And to make matters worse, he had ended it on a sour note. The last time he saw Gavin he had been storming out of his apartment, heartbroken and miserable. Michael had not only hurt him emotionally but had basically tied the noose around his neck.

Jack takes Ray aside (who had just arrived) and explains to him the situation. The low murmuring of his voice echoing through the otherwise silent apartment.

Ryan has gone to investigate the scene to try and pick up any clues to where Gavin might be but Geoff has remained in the bathroom with Michael.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” his boss finally says.

Michael licks his lips. He knew this question was coming. “I was running from my problems. I thought it could handle it better alone.”

“That’s not what this crew is about. We don’t keep secrets.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Geoff sighs loudly. Thudding his head against the doorframe. “Did Gavin know?”

Michael nods. “Told him just a few hours ago when those photos were taken.”

“And he still wanted to be with you?”

He feels the sob crawl up his throat again. He nods. He shouldn’t have let Gavin go. He should’ve kept him close.

The tears well in his eyes again but he furiously blinks them away. He wracks his brain trying to think, trying to come up with a solution to this problem but all he can think of is the way Gavin’s eyes shone when he cried and the blood stained carpet. The picture of him and Gavin kissing burned into his mind as a bitter reminder of what he’s about to lose. All. Over. Again.

Geoff must have noted the change in Michael’s breathing because he ducked down to sit beside him. “Look, kiddo. No one blames you for this.”

_They should._

“But you’ve got to help us,” Geoff tells him calmly and Michael wonders at how he is managing to keep his cool. “You know these guys better than we do. How do we get Gavin back?”

_You don’t._

“They would’ve left a clue,” Michael says hoarsely. “They want me to come after him.”

“I just found it,” Ryan tells them, re-joining them in the bathroom. In his hand he holds out Gavin’s favourite pair of sunglasses. Scratched into them are coordinates.

Geoff takes the sunglasses and examines them. “It’s offshore,” he tells him after running through the coordinates on his phone. “About thirty minutes off the coast.”

“No easy escape then,” Ryan comments.

Geoff turns to Michael who sits on the floor, who has somewhat gathered himself. Because what use is he to Gavin crying in a bathroom?

“How do we get him out?” his boss asks him.

“Give me a moment,” Michael says, pushing himself off of the ground to pace the spacious room.

“Stealth at first,” he finally says, “If they know we’re there they’ll shoot him as soon as we lay eyes on him. So if Ryan hacks into their security cameras, I’ll sneak onto the boat to get him out.” He’s on autopilot now. He knows how it has to play out. “Once I have him I’ll get him on a boat where you guys take him to land. And he doesn’t come back. No matter what because they won’t let him slip out of their fingers a second time. Audience or not.”

“We deliver him to Griffon,” Geoff agrees, “She’ll keep watch of him.”

 “Do we still have that Valkyrie?”

A nod from Geoff.

“Then we’ll blow those fuckers up.”

\----

Michael and Jack are crammed into the crew’s _Submersible_ submarine. They’re reaching the side of the boat and Michael grabs his gun.

“Remember, Michael,” Jack tells him, “once you’ve given me Gavin, I’ll send word to Ray to come here to pick you up after you’ve planted the bombs.”

He nods. “I’ll be back soon,” he promises because now with the adrenalin and anger pulsing through his veins he won’t give up until Gavin’s safe and off of the boat.

They breach the water. Michael unhinges and raises the hatch before climbing out. He stands with his feet either of the hole where Jack passes up a laser cutter.

“We in the right spot, Ryan?” Michael asks, pressing his finger to his earpiece.

“Yeah,” Ryan’s voice responded, “You cut your way into there and you should be in the storage unit they’re keeping Gavin. Currently there’s no one in there but there are two people outside the door. So make sure you keep it quiet. The distraction should be starting in a few seconds.”

He pauses a moment and then-

_Bang. Bang._

The sky above them flashes green, purple and pink from the light of the fireworks being sent off from the beach. Sent off by Griffon who is waiting there to receive Gavin from Jack.

“Now or never, Michael,” Jack says from below.

“Right.”

He raises the weapon and quickly starts his work, melting through the boat material steadily as the fireworks explode above them. He pauses to check his work, pushing the material with his foot. It creaks and then shifts in place. He pushes more and luckily Ryan was right. The material was weak enough that he could push it over with brute force to create a sort of slide into the room.

The moonlight and the glare of the fireworks create a walkway of light which unveils Gavin with his back to him, head slumped and tied to a chair. Without pause Michael gives a thumbs up to Jack and quietly slides into the room.

He moves around to face him and – Gavin’s out cold. A trickle of blood running down his face from a bloody mark on his forehead. He pauses for a moment to trace his jawline softly before getting back to work. Soundlessly cutting his binds loose (noticing the bruising on his knuckles and the mild rope burns), scooping his best friend up in arms and moving back to the hole in the boat. He passes him gently to Jack who is already waiting to receive him. He watches as the sub is locked up tight and sinks again below the surface before letting out a long breath.

_Gavin’s safe._

And now Michael needs to end this. His crewmates think he is just planting a bomb and get the fuck off the boat as the Valkyrie attacks the outside. But he knows it doesn’t end that way. It ends with the drug dealers getting their revenge which would be them thinking they trapped Michael. It ended with him dying in Gavin’s place. Their perfect horror story. Otherwise he would just be putting the crew in even more danger than before.

He presses his ear piece. “Jones checking in. Target is secure and being delivered to the safe house.”

“Good work,” Geoff responds, “Now go teach those fuckers a lesson.”

“My pleasure.”

Just the memory of Gavin’s pale face against the dark red of his gash makes Michael’s blood boil. He cocks his gun. If he’s going to go out he might as well enjoy it.

He marches up to the door and knocks. There’s a muffle of annoyed voices. He slips to the side and into the shadows as the door starts to creak open. Two men in masks stalk into the room. Moving to the empty chair to stare out at the large hole in the boat.

But before either of them can begin to warn their allies two bullets go into each other their heads.

“Ryan. Start making it rain.”

Ryan’s voice comes through his earpiece with a venomous laugh. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make that dock a living hell.” As if on cue an explosion rattles above him and Michael nearly topples over with the sheer force of it.

There’s no time to lose. He has to plant the bomb and make sure as many people suffer as possible for all the pain they’ve inflicted upon him. Michael peers around the door, it’s clear. And over the sounds of bullets firing he can hear footsteps rushing to the deck of the ship. Giving Michael a clear shot at the ship’s engine room. From the schematics of the ship he had seen earlier he finds his way quickly, smoke slowly starting to seep its way into the corridors.

Another explosion sways the ship and he hears the slosh of water flood in from behind him – probably from the hole he entered from. He pushes onwards. Shooting three more men on his way there, not even pausing to look down at their lightless eyes. Then he makes it to the engine room, shoving the door open and barging into another dimly lit room.

They were really trying to sell the whole ‘evil villain’ thing, weren’t they?

He pulls a small sticky bomb out from his waterproof satchel and heads to the engine, placing it into it and setting a timer for two minutes. He adds four more to the outside walls of the room too just to make sure the bitch sinks.

“Jones checking in. Bombs planted and ticking. Two minutes left, boys.”

It’s Ray’s voice who answers this time, which isn’t surprising as he believes himself the one who’s picking Michael up and bringing him to safety. “Alright Michael, I’ve driven the dingy to where you’ve entered. It’s flooded a bit but I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

Michael flexes his fingers as he watches the counter on the sticky bomb tick down. “I… There’s been a change of plan, Ray.”

“Why? What’s happened?” Jack demands.

“I’m not done here yet.”

“But the bombs-“ Ryan begins.

“Will go off in two minutes, yes,” Michael responds calmly.

It’s Geoff turn to intercede as he says sharply, “Whatever the fuck you think you’re doing, Michael-

“Look. I know how this has to go,” he snaps at them, “They’re going to be furious after this stunt. But if this boat goes down with me on it and you guys are safe. They won’t come after you because they’ll think they won.”

“Not a fucking option,” Geoff snarls.

“Well unfortunately for you I’m the only one on this boat and I’ve stalled you for long enough that it’s too late for you to-“

There’s a flash of pain and his world goes black.

\----

When he emerges from the darkness it’s with a groan. His eyes peel open and a headache immediately hits him.

“Well, well, look who decided to wake up,” a sarcastic voice drawls.

He blinks but his vision is still blurry. He can tell that he’s in his bedroom and he can make out the familiar figure speaking.

“Geoff,” he sighs, “who-?”

“Ray. Once you started going all suicidal on us he climbed onto the boat, knocked you out and brought your stupid ass back to shore before the bombs went off,” Geoff explains, passing Michael his glasses.

Michael swore softly. “Fucking kid’s too smart.”

“What the fuck were you thinking, Michael?” Geoff demands angrily.

He clenches his jaw. “I was thinking that I was saving your asses. That now we’ve just royally pissed them off even more when you guys could’ve been in the clear.”

“Wrong answer. You _weren’t_ thinking,” the older man snaps before getting up out his seat and taking a long deep breath. “Now, I can sit here and lecture you all day long. But there’s someone waiting in your living room who I think will make the point much better.”

“Gavin.”

“Oh yeah. And I’ll warn you – he’ll really fucking pissed at you.” And with that Geoff marches out the room.

“You’d think he’d show a bit more gratitude to someone who saved his fucking life!” Michael yells after him but the anger is swept away when a serious looking Gavin enters the room with more silence and stillness than Michael has ever seen. The injury on his forehead has been stitched up and there’s bandages around his knuckles but it’s the bags under his eyes and the tortured look on his face which really pains Michael’s heart.

“Gavin,” he murmurs, not knowing what to say.

The Brit slides onto the chair that Geoff was previously occupying. (A chair which looked like was from his dinner table.)

“So. You were going to kill yourself.”

“Gav, it was the only-“

“Don’t,” he snarls, “Don’t you try and fucking tell me it was the only way. Killing yourself, Michael?! How could you do that? How could you even _think_ of doing that?!”

“Do you not fucking see yourself, Gavin?! You were kidnapped, you were beaten, and they were going to kill you!”

“But you guys handled it! Like we do all of our threats! There was no need to-

“No _need_?! They’re more pissed than ever, Gavin. Don’t you realise that if they don’t get what they want they’ll keep coming for me, for us. For _you_.”

“So leaving me was what you thought was best?”

“Yes.”

“Leaving me to suffer like you did after you lost your fiancée? Knowing it was all my fault?”

Michael’s mouth moves but no words come out.

“Ah,” Gavin hums, “you didn’t think of it like that did you? Didn’t think of how it would have wrecked me, _killed_ me. I would’ve rather been dead than live without you.” Michael stares at him, wide-eyed, his hands shaking. “So what if they come after us? We’re the Fake AH Crew. We can handle it and even if we couldn’t? That’s a risk I’m willing to take for you. I’d rather live a couple of days with you than a whole lifetime without you. So the next time you go all martyr-hero on us, remember that you have me. And I need you. I love you, Michael.”

Tears are welling up in both of their eyes and Gavin has grasped Michael’s hand almost painfully.

“So please don’t ever leave me,” Gavin begs him, all of his anger seeming to have disappeared.

A small smile tugs on Michael’s lips. “I won’t, Gavin.” He brings Gavin’s fingertips up to his lips and kisses them softly. “I love you, too.”

It may be a dangerous life, and there may be times when Michael thinks he’s about to lose it all again. But those are only passing moments in the whirlwind of happiness which is his life. Gavin was right, it was far better to live in reckless love than cautious misery. Their enemies can give as good as they get but who are they really opposed to the Fake AH Crew?

With every victory and every epic escape Michael becomes more and more certain of his place in this world. Next to Gavin. Whether that be in bed on a lazy Sunday or in the middle of a heist. And suddenly his love for Gavin is no longer a weapon against him but a weapon against his enemies because like hell will he let anyone take his happiness from him.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed that! Whilst I normally I'm poly-shipping trash I cannot deny that Mavin has stolen my heart big time, especially Fake AH Crew Mavin! <3
> 
> Let me know what you think - perhaps I'll write from Fake AH Crew Mavinseg ;)


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